And at last Ann Veronica and Miss Miniver came down the dark staircase and out into the foggy spaces of the London squares, and crossed Russell Square, Woburn Square, Gordon Square, making an oblique route to Ann Veronica’s lodging. She listened with dumb fear in her eyes. The challenge gave her courage. They made a stratum into which Ann Veronica was now plunged up to her neck; it had become her stratum. Fly! fly!" "Do not think of me, mother, but of yourself," cried Jack, in an agony of tears. Since morning he had become fanatical; the atoms of common sense no longer functioned in the accustomed groove. Anna, quitting her chair, dropped on her knees by her sister’s side and took her hand.
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